Although the idea of snake eating is so repugnant to our ideas that many persons cannot eat eels because they look like snakes, the Australian knows better, and considers a snake as one of the greatest delicacies which the earth produces. And there is certainly no reason why we should repudiate the snake as disgusting while we accept the turtle and so many of the tortoise kind as delicacies, no matter whether their food be animal or vegetable. The Australian knows that a snake in good condition ought to have plenty of fat, and to be well flavored, and is always easy in his mind so long as he can catch one.

The process of cooking (see page 716) is exactly like that which is employed with fish, except that more pains are taken about it, as is consistent with the superior character of the food. The fire being lighted, the native squats in front of it and waits until the flame and smoke have partly died away, and then carefully coils the snake on the embers, turning it and recoiling it until all the scales are so scorched that they can be rubbed off. He then allows it to remain until it is cooked according to his ideas, and eats it deliberately, as becomes such a dainty, picking out the best parts for himself, and, if he be in a good humor, tossing the rest to his wives.

Snake hunting is carried on in rather a curious manner. Killing a snake at once, unless it should be wanted for immediate consumption, would be extremely foolish, as it would be unfit for food before the night had passed away. Taking it alive, therefore, is the plan which is adopted by the skilful hunter, and this he manages in a very ingenious way.

Should he come upon one of the venomous serpents, he cuts off its retreat, and with his spear or with a forked stick he irritates it with one hand, while in his other he holds the narrow wooden shield. By repeated blows he induces the reptile to attack him, and dexterously receives the stroke on the shield, flinging the snake back by the sudden repulse. Time after time the snake renews the attack, and is as often foiled; and at last it yields the battle, and lies on the ground completely beaten. The hunter then presses his forked stick on the reptile’s neck, seizes it firmly, and holds it while a net is thrown over it and it is bound securely to his spear. It is then carried off, and reserved for the next day’s banquet.

Sometimes the opossum-skin cloak takes the place of the shield, and the snake is allowed to bite it.

The carpet snake, which sometimes attains the length of ten or twelve feet, is favorite game with the Australian native, as its large size furnishes him with an abundant supply of meat, as well as the fat in which his soul delights. This snake mostly lives in holes at the foot of the curious grass-tree, of which we shall see several figures in the course of the following pages, and in many places it is so plentiful that there is scarcely a grass-tree without its snake.

As it would be a waste of time to probe each hole in succession, the natives easily ascertain those holes which are inhabited by smearing the earth around them with a kind of white clay mixed with water, which is as soft as putty. On the following day they can easily see, by the appearance of the clay, when a snake has entered or left its hole, and at once proceed to induce the reptile to leave its stronghold. This is done by putting on the trunk of the tree immediately over the hole a bait, which the natives state to be honey, and waiting patiently, often for many hours, until the serpent is attracted by the bait and climbs the tree. As soon as it is clear of the hole, its retreat is cut off, and the result of the ensuing combat is a certainty. The forked spear which the native employs is called a bo-bo.

All the tribes which live along the eastern coast, especially those which inhabit the northern part of the country, are in the habit of capturing the dugong. This animal is very fond of a green, branchless, marine alga, and ventures to the shore in order to feed upon it. The natives are on the watch for it, and, as soon as a dugong is seen, a canoe puts off after it.

Each canoe is furnished with paddles and a harpooner, who is armed with a weapon very similar to that which is used by the turtle catchers, except that no buoy is required. It is composed of a shaft some twelve or fifteen feet in length, light at one end, and heavy at the other. A hole is made at the heavy end, and into the hole is loosely fitted a kind of spear head made of bone, about four inches in length, and covered with barbs. One end of a stout and long rope is made fast to this head, and the other is attached to the canoe.

As soon as he is within striking distance, the harpooner jumps out of the boat into the water, striking at the same time with his weapon, so as to add to the stroke the force of his own weight. Disengaging the shaft, he returns to the canoe, leaving the dugong attached to it by the rope. The wounded animal dives and tries to make its way seaward. Strange to say, although the dugong is a large animal, often eight feet in length, and very bulky in proportion to its length, it seldom requires to be struck a second time, but rises to the surface and dies in a few minutes from a wound occasioned by so apparently insignificant a weapon as a piece of bone struck some three inches into its body. When it is dead, it is towed ashore, and rolled up the bank to some level spot, where preparations are at once made for cooking and eating it.

Those who are acquainted with zoölogy are aware that the dugong is formed much after the manner of the whale, and that it is covered first with a tough skin and then with a layer of blubber over the muscles. This structure, by the way, renders its succumbing to the wound of the harpoon the more surprising. The natives always cut it up in the same manner. The tail is sliced much as we carve a round of beef, while the body is cut into thin slices as far as the ribs, each slice having its own proportion of meat, blubber, and skin. The blubber is esteemed higher than any other portion of the animal, though even the tough skin can be rendered tolerably palatable by careful cooking.

Of all Australian animals, the kangaroo is most in favor, both on account of the excellent quality of the flesh, and the quantity which a single kangaroo will furnish. It is hardly necessary to remind the reader that with the Australian, as with other savages, quantity is considered rather than quality. A full grown “boomah” kangaroo will, when standing upright, in its usual attitude of defence, measure nearly six feet in height, and is of very considerable weight. And, when an Australian kills a kangaroo, he performs feats of gluttony to which the rest of the world can scarcely find a parallel, and certainly not a superior. Give an Australian a kangaroo and he will eat until he is nearly dead from repletion; and he will go on eating, with short intervals of rest, until he has finished the entire kangaroo.

Like other savage creatures, whether human or otherwise, he is capable of bearing deprivation of food to a wonderful extent; and his patient endurance of starvation, when food is not to be obtained, is only to be excelled by his gluttony when it is plentiful. This curious capacity for alternate gluttony and starvation is fostered by the innately lazy disposition of the Australian savage, and his utter disregard for the future. The animal that ought to serve him and his family for a week is consumed in a few hours; and, as long as he does not feel the pain of absolute hunger, nothing can compel the man to leave his rude couch and go off on a hunting expedition. But when he does make up his mind to hunt, he has a bulldog sort of tenacity which forbids him to relinquish the chase until he has been successful in bringing down his game.